The Dangers of Demon Drink
by darthsquirt2
Summary: In the post apocalyptic Mojave, The Courier travels the wasteland with the aid of The Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Together they've fought mutants, monsters, bandits, and fanatics. However, during a particularly eventful stay in New Vegas, something happens that puts a damper on their favorite activity. Drinking. If only they could remember what it was.


The Courier groaned as he blinked opened his eyes. For one thing, his head hurt. A lot. As he brushed some rebellious locks of hair from his eyes, he saw that he was in a small hotel room, laying on the left side of a lumpy mattress. The other thing he noticed, was that the room's window was immediately to his left, and the blinds hadn't been shut. He hissed, and screwed his eyes shut again.

"Hangovers and strange hotel rooms. Those never mix well." He mumbled to himself.

He rolled out of the bed, grabbing the loaded pistol that he always kept hidden there when staying in a building. He'd learned why that was such a good idea back in Oregon. Or was it Washington? His brain wasn't really cooperating at the moment. Beside the bed, he discovered his pants, boots, and shirt, and quickly dressed himself. As he did, he noticed a newly stitched wound, quite close to his heart. Although obviously fresh, it didn't hurt. Mentally shrugging off the little mystery, he placed his pistol in its holster, and stepped to the nearby window. He slid the blinds apart with his hand, squinted at the light, and looked outside.

"New Vegas. Well, I suppose it could've been…" He stopped as he heard something stirring in the bed behind him.

"Somebody get the name of that brew." A familiar, and distinctly feminine voice muttered from a bundle of sheets. "I swear, I only had one glass."

The Courier turned as the woman shrugged off the blankets.

"Oh shit." He whispered.

The woman stiffened.

"Cass, what the hell are we doing here?" He asked, tentatively.

"I was about to ask you the same question." She shot back.

"Well, seeing as how my memory center is currently trying to help my liver with last night's load, I don't really have an answer for you."

"Hangovers." Cass spat, standing up. The Courier quickly turned back around. "For every guilty pleasure the devil gives us, God has to find some way to ruin the fun."

"How poetic." The Courier said, staring back out the window.

"Feels like I drank enough last night to kill, then preserve a Brahmin." She groaned. "Excuse me if I'm not exactly Virgil."

She dressed herself with unusual haste, and when she was done, rounded on the Courier, who turned to face her.

"Now, we are going to find someone who knows what the hell happened last night." She told him sternly. "Hopefully they'll be within easy distance of a drink or two." She muttered.

The Courier was cut off from reply by a knock at the door.

"Come in." He called out.

The door opened, to a smiling, balding man, wearing what appeared to be a pre-war fast food service uniform.

"Ah, there you are, finally awake. It's almost noon. I would've gotten you up sooner, but I know this is a special day for the two of you."

"Special day?" Rose said, confused. "I'd like to think what happened last night is a bit more interesting."

"Ah." He exhaled, understandingly. "Too true, too true. Anyway," He began to close the door again. "I just wanted to give my best to the newlyweds, it's not often we see something to celebrate these days." Then the door was shut again, and the man was gone.

The Courier, and The Rose of Sharon Cassidy stood there for a few minutes gaping at each other.

"Newlyweds?" Rose sputtered. "Did he just say newlyweds?"

"Now Cass," The Courier said, reassuringly. "I'm sure there is a logical explanation for all this."

"Really? Because it seems to me that we got completely drunk last night, found the nearest street corner, got pronounced husband and wife, and then took out a room here, where we passed out."

"Well," The Courier scratched his hair. "I was going to suggest that maybe that man had he wrong room, but your version sound like something we'd do. And this _is_ New Vegas after all."

"You're impossible." Cass sighed.

"Look." The Courier said, seeing that Cass was obviously agitated. "Let's just check out, and find out what happened. I'm sure this all just a…" He paused for a moment, searching for the right word. "misunderstanding."

"Right." She spoke in a deflated tone. "Let's get out of here."

After they paid for their room, the two of them stepped out onto the city streets. After an hour of searching, they hadn't found much. It was beginning to look like, to them at least, that Cass was right after all. Now they were sitting in a restaurant and nursing their own thoughts… and drinks.

"Why in hell would I go off and get hitched?" Cass burst out, slamming her fist into the table and rattling both their drinks. "No offense." She offered, seeing the look of surprise on The Courier's face.

"None taken." He assured her. "I was just startled, that's all."

"Sorry, it's just…" Cass paused. "this whole thing seems strange. I don't know what to think of it all."

"You and me both Cass." He agreed, taking a large gulp from the bottle in front of him.

As they returned to their solemn silence, a well-dressed man in a fine white suit, and sleek black hair approached the table.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite amigos." The man said in his peculiar accent. "To be truthful, I didn't think I'd see you up this early."

"Well," The Courier grinned. "If it isn't The King himself." He stood, and pulled a chair from a nearby table over for The King to sit on. "What brings you here?"

The King smiled, settling into the offered seat. "Just wanted to see if you two were doing okay. Heard talk around town that you don't quite remember last night.

"Yeah." The Courier rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. "We might've gone a little overboard with the drinking."

Cass shot him a mutinous glare from across the table. 'No such thing.' She mouthed.

"I think we all did there, brother." The King grinned. "But I think I can help fill in some of the gaps."

Both Cass and The Courier turned their chairs to face the King, giving him their full attention.

"There was a big shootout last night, on the edge of town. When me and the boys got there," He looked at the Courier. "you were shot up pretty bad. We helped you." She turned to Cass. "Drag him to the nearest doc." He continued, now addressing them both. "After they got you both patched up, you said you wanted to tie the knot. After you brought me back here, you got me to perform the whole ceremony. Wasn't all bad though."

_Please don't tell me we let him sing_. The Courier thought urgently. Across the table, Cass was thinking along similar lines.

"I got to work out my vocal cords. Even got Rex to help out during the party afterward. You two seemed to just kept disappearing and reappearing with more rounds. Out drank every last one of my boys." The King grinned again. "Just wanted to drop by and let you know it wasn't as bad a thing as you seem to think." With that, The King stood, and left the building.

The Courier and Cass stayed at the table, sitting silently, for a while more.

"Hunh." Cass broke the silence "I wonder what happened during that fight. That made me want to get…" She trailed off.

"Me too." The Courier consented. "Then again, does it really matter?" He stood, and offered Cass his hand.

She took it and stood. Then, The Courier started for the door.

"Where are we going?" She asked, walking after him.

"I have no idea." He tossed back, mischievously.

"Then we'd better stock up on whiskey."

"Way ahead of you."

With that, The Courier pushed open the doors, and stepped out. Pausing only for a soft chuckle, Cass stepped after him.

_Maybe this won't be so bad after all. Weird. The sun didn't seem this bright when we came in._ She thought as she stepped out into the light.

Some people,

Some people never change.


End file.
